


First Impressions

by Flarenwrath



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Come as Lube, F/M, First Time, Frottage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Public Sex, Voyeurism, background F/M, inebriated consent, thrall is a bisexual bottom boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 23:45:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14779556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flarenwrath/pseuds/Flarenwrath
Summary: Thrall spends his first night among the Warsong Orcs.





	First Impressions

**Author's Note:**

> Thrall has a huge man crush on Grom and we all know it.

Thrall's first impression of Grommash Hellscream was that he was nothing like the orc depicted on those human wanted posters. 

The humans had always whispered of an orc Warlord whose eyes glowed a monstrous red and whose lust for blood knew no equal. And yet when Thrall was finally face to face with the Warsong chieftain, he found that it couldn't have been further from the truth.

When Thrall had first come face to face with Grom, he was shocked to find that the man was stunning- his long thick black hair draped around his face and pulled up into a top knot in the back, his jaw and chest covered in thick black lines of a tattoo, and his shirtless body proudly showing off his perfect muscles.

Grom was a fierce warrior.

He was a charismatic leader.

And he was a generous host.

Despite Thrall’s insistence that it wasn't necessary, Grom had called for a feast among the clan. 'Our stolen brothers and sisters return to us. What better reason is there to celebrate?' he had said. And Thrall couldn't find any reason to argue.

At first, Thrall found the whole thing to be familiar enough to the feasts in Blackmore's halls. The clan had set ablaze a large bonfire in the center of their encampment for both cooking food as well as lighting the night. Charred meats and tubers were served to all and kegs of stolen human ale were tapped and free flowing.

The only real difference that Thrall was embarrassed to admit he was having a hard time coping with was that all members of the clan were not feasting while sitting on some fine furniture, but instead on either a broken log or the dirt itself. That was everyone except for Grom.

The clan had fashioned their Warlord a study wood and fur lined 'throne,’ for lack of a better word, situated atop a slightly elevated mound so that he could overlook the entire proceedings. 

When the feast had kicked off and orcs were busy loudly speaking in quick and heavily accented Orcish, rushing past him all with a clear understanding of what was expected of them, he couldn't help but feel out of place. This was his people and he was elated to be 'home' amongst them, but it would be a lie to say that he didn't feel a little out of place with them.

Thankfully, Grom had saved him from his awkwardness, wrapping an arm around Thrall's shoulders and guiding him to a small spot next to his 'throne'.

"It is you that we are celebrating tonight-" he said with a sly grin making Thrall's cheeks flush, "-I would have you in a position of honor at my side.”

As the evening unfolded, Thrall found himself slowly acclimating to the inhuman behaviors of orcs. 

Normal behaviors, he corrected himself.

As more drink was consumed, the louder and more raucous the clan had become. There was bellowing laughter over jokes that he didn't understand, challenges to fights, and even the occasional couple kissing hotly in shadowed corners. The worst of it, however, was that it seemed clothing for both the men and women was ... optional. And as the sky turned dark and the heat of the night enveloped the camp, it seemed as though various states of undress were becoming more common.

Thrall's cheeks burned and he found more often than not that he had to avert his eyes. It wasn't that he thought the orcs’ customs were -wrong-, it was that it was just... more than he was expecting. 

"Does my feast not please you, Thrall?" Grom's steady voice cut through the clamor of the night. Thrall let out a sharp gasp and focused his attention on his host once more. His heart skipped a beat for a moment, fearing the worst like he had suffered with Blackmore whenever he was not 'behaving', but the look in Grom's eyes was thankfully one of honesty- and maybe even a little curiosity.

"It's not that,” he started, trying to think of a way to explain his hesitation that wouldn't offend the warlord. "It's just my first time around this many orcs."

Grom seemed to consider that for a moment, his eyes burning in their intensity. "You are an orc. You just need to be reminded how to be one." He said definitively before all but commanding, "Drink your ale."

Thrall flushed and looked down at his untouched drink. It's not that he had meant to be rude, he just wasn't used to being offered these sorts of things... Glancing up he found that Grom's intense stare was still fixated on him. Swallowing down his nerves he raises his mug in salute, as Grom did the same, before tipping it back and taking three long gulps. As he lowered his mug and caught his breath, he watched in awe as Grom continued to chug the rest of his drink. 

He didn't mean to stare, but he couldn't help it as he watched Grom's throat work the drink down with each swallow, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Another rush of heat overcame Thrall, flushing his cheeks once more as he quickly averted his eyes back to the campfire and the rest of the clan. He couldn't place the thought that had entered his mind, but he knew whatever it was it was going to get him into trouble.

As the moon rose above the trees and the distant howl of wolves could be heard, the festivities were still going strong. With Grom's constant encouraging, Thrall was now three mugs of ale in, and he could feel the alcohol in him. His fingers tingling, his cheeks and chest flushed, and his mind clouding. 

Biting down on his upper lip, he cursed himself for drinking so much, but he couldn't help it when Grom was encouraging him like that. There was just something about having the Warlord’s attention focused entirely on him, the little smirk of pride that he would give him whenever he succeeded at 'being orcish,’ that he couldn't help himself.

And it must have been because of his inebriation, Thrall told himself, that he didn't notice the party taking a -different- turn.

As his eyes scanned over the clan- anything to have a moment’s reprieve from Grom's 'encouragement'- Thrall noticed that the couples who were previously few and far between, hiding on the outskirts of the light to conceal their affections, now encompassed at least a third of the total attendees, and were blatantly grinding and writhing on the ground in full view of everyone.

Thrall's felt blood rush to his face, even his ears burning with the intensity of it.

There was a couple not ten feet from him- the woman naked from the waist down on her hands and knees, face pressed uncaringly into the dust with her hips high in the air, with her partner behind her, gripping her hips tightly as he thrust his cock into her heat over and over again. He could hear her breathy moans and sharp whines that seemed to escalate with each thrust, he could see her as her hand wandered between her spread thighs to rub at her clit.

Thrall could feel his pulse increase and heat pool between his legs as he tried to drown out the sight of them with another mug of ale.  
In his attempt to look away, he instead found himself locking eyes with Grom. The older orc stared at him with that same intensity that was doing nothing to ease the growing ache between his legs.

"Grom..." he started, knowing that he must look like some lost deer that realized it was surrounded by the pack.

"You're an orc,” he reminded as he rose to his feet from the pelt-covered throne. "Do not let those humans weaken you." Grom closed the distance between the two of them with only a few strides before kneeling in front of him, one large hand gripping Thrall's shoulder tightly and planting him firmly in place.

Thrall could feel a rush of panic run through him. Grom was too close.

The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and loud deep moans just to his left were only escalating, and he could feel that his cock was now tenting his pants.

Thrall could feel Grom's hand on his thigh before he saw him move. The touch elicited a sharp gasp from him. His face burned and he knew that it was too late from him to flee, the wolf was closing in and he was going to succumb.

"Do you want me to show you?" Grom murmured, his eyes burning into Thrall with a dark promise as the hand on his thigh slid ever higher. The tips of Grom's fingers were so painfully close to easing the ache that was starting to consume him.

Thrall hesitated for only a moment, barely having breathed a 'yes,’ before Grom's hand was on him- palming him through his pants as though getting a feel for the size of him. He couldn't help but let out a shaky whine and roll his hips up into the touch. Never before had he had someone else's hands on him, and the sensation was nothing that his own shy touches in the dark of the night could have prepared him for.

Caught up as he was in the feeling, he almost didn't notice when Grom began pushing him down to the ground, unlacing his pants, and yanking them down and off. When the cool air hit his exposed cock, another flush of embarrassment rolled over him. He didn't need to look down to know that his cock was throbbing, leaking droplets of pre-cum that oozed out from his foreskin.

But unlike him, Grom held no hesitation. His thumb pushing down against the tip of Thrall's cock and effectively forcing his wetness to leak down the length of him before gripping him tightly and stroking him, his motions slow and deliberate. Pulling his foreskin back and exposing his weeping head when Grom's fist was at the base of him before sliding it back.  
"Ah-! Grom-!" Thrall pleaded as Grom settled in between his spread and shaky thighs.

"I'm not done with you yet, young one,” Grom growled, and he unlatched and tossed aside his belt before unlacing his own pants.

Another tremble wracked through Thrall's body as he watched Grom's own cock spring free. In the firelight, he could see the glint of a thick piercing- the ring pierced through just under the head of his cock and coming out through the slit- the sight of which made him burn all the more.

Grom then took both of their cocks in his large hand, his palm squeezing them together as he roughly jerked them both off. With each stroke, the older man's piercing was pressing against the head of Thrall's cock in a way he couldn't describe and his cock drooled precum over both of them as he felt a building of pressure at the base of his spine.

And then it was over all too soon.

Thrall couldn't even manage to beg Grom to slow down, it all hit him so fast. His body trembled and his thigh's gripped tightly to Grom's waist as he came, his cock shooting thick cum all over his own belly and Grom's hand.

His vision was sparking as he laid there and gasped for air. He could feel Grom's hand letting Thrall's softening cock slide free before running his fingers through the now cooling cum. In his post orgasmic haze he didn't think much of it until one thick cum coated finger began prodding at his entrance.

Thrall gasped and snapped his eyes open at that, looking down to see a smirking Grom between his legs- one hand firmly holding his hip in place as the other pushed a slicked finger in past the first ring of muscle.

"Ah~~!" he cried as he threw his head back, body involuntarily clenching around the invasive digit.

It would be a lie to say that he had never played with his asshole before while masturbating, but Thrall found that it was something very different to have someone fingering you when you weren't in control. With a shaky breath he tried to recall the way he had to relax when he was exploring himself... 

Then suddenly Grom's finger brushed up against something inside of him. Something that made his body tremble and had him clawing at the dirt. 

"AHHH~~!" he cried again, louder this time as he gave into the feeling of it and rolled his hips down, trying to get Grom's finger to do that again. 

"You're so eager for me...", Grom purred as he slowly slid his finger all the way out, only for him to slide two into him. "Show me you know how to serve a Warlord," he teased as he twisted his fingers before pressing against that little spot inside Thrall again.

Thrall let out a soft whine as he rolled his hips again, fucking himself on Grom's fingers as his cock began twitching back to life. Distantly he was aware that eyes were on them- that other couples were watching their Warlord finger-fuck a Frostwolf with his own cum! And it only turned him on more...

At one moment those fingers were buried to the knuckle in him, then suddenly they were removed and he felt as though he were too empty. Thrall squirmed under Grom, his hips rolling in an attempt to entice them back.

"Patience, young one,” Grom purred again as he slid his finger through the rest of the cum on Thrall's belly and rubbing the slick fluid onto his own throbbing cock. He pushed Thrall's leg's back until they were almost pressed against his chest before nudging the tip of his cock against his loosened hole. The tip of the metal ring already pushed its way inside.

A cry ripped through him when he finally felt it, that thick cock forcing its way inside him. Both thicker and longer than both of Grom's fingers and also infinitely better. With how Grom had him folded in half he couldn't even move, he could only take what Grom was willing to give him.

And Grom was willing to give a lot.

The Warlord thrust into him fully with one loud grunt, forcing another needy cry from Thrall's throat. There was no slow lovers’ buildup of their pace, Grom would bury himself in to the hilt before pulling nearly out and thrusting back in again. Thrall's whole body was moved with the force of him and it was as though every time his cock slid in, that thick ring grazed against the spot inside him that made him see stars.

"Please~! Grom~!" Thrall cried with a trembling voice, his own cock leaking a steady flow of precum onto his belly. Grom growled low in response and thrust into him faster. Their bodies making lewd sounds of flesh against flesh that only had Thrall moaning louder.

The memory of that orc woman he had watched, who undoubtedly was watching -him- now, came to him, and he mimicked what she had done- sliding a hand between his legs so he could palm at the head of his oversensitive cock. 

And that was enough to send him trembling over the edge again. His whole body clenched as he shot his cum over himself for a second time that night.

And that seemed to push over Grom, too. The Warlord let out an animalistic growl as he thrust into Thrall's clenched hole twice more before burying himself in as deep as he could go and pumping his hot seed deep inside him.

The two of them stayed like that for a long moment as they caught their breath. Grom slowly eased himself out of Thrall's reddened and loose hole, their shared cum leaking out and onto the ground. Thrall could only lay there as his overspent body trembled in the dying embers of the night. Grom merely stood and tucked himself away, giving the young orc a lewd grin.

"We'll make an orc out of you yet."


End file.
